Almost Impossible Children
by LimeyJellyBean
Summary: Dream invaders are something that Sam and Dean have encountered before, but why does this one seem determined to learn about Castiel in every way but from him? Set after season 8, so possible spoilers if you've been living under a rock.
1. What the hell?

**Chapter 1**

As he flew through the air, Dean couldn't help but wonder what had got the drop on them as he saw Sam and Castiel fly in the complete opposite direction to the one he had gone. He lost sight of them as he crashed through a partition wall and landed in an undignified heap amongst plaster and drywall. He groaned as he sat up, squinting in the low light to see if he could find where Sam and Castiel had landed. Why did they always have to go hunting at night? He groaned again, putting his hand to his head and hissing in pain when he reached his crown.

"Dammit." The word came out as a growl to accurately convey how Dean was feeling. Even ghosts couldn't throw a person hard enough to break walls, although the amount of times he had been thrown at walls told him they damn well tried. He sat there for a moment, then strong hands pulled him into a standing position that was forced on him rather than him doing it independently. He reached for his gun to bat the hands away, but they released him as soon as he was stood without swaying. Squinting again to see who had done it, he noticed a glimmer of blue and he nodded in thanks. He turned away to try and see Sam again, and noticed the trench coat of Castiel stood over him, trying to help him sit up. He looked in the direction of Dean, and a small amount of surprise crossed his face.

"Dean." Castiel even sounded surprised to see Dean up so quickly. He looked back down at Sam, and motioned for Dean to come over and help him to get Sam into at least a seating position. He started to move over to Castiel, but a wave of dizziness hit him, so he shot a hand out to steady himself. The cut on his head must be worse than he thought.

"Hang on Cas, just… Let me stop feeling dizzy. I think you helped me up too soon." He looked over, his other hand pressed against his crown and his stomach dropped slightly when Castiel gave him a confused look.

"I didn't help you up, Dean. I've been trying to get Sam up." Sam shifted slightly with this, stirring with consciousness. Dean looked down at his younger brother, then back up at the recently fallen angel. He felt his stomach drop again when he realised the Castiel wasn't lying, and a small amount of panic crept in.

"Who did then?"

"I don't know."

"Or what did?"

"I don't know, Dean." At that moment, Sam stirred again, groaning with the effort of sitting himself up, even with the aid of his older brother and Castiel.

"Well, do you have any idea what threw us? Do we know of anything with enough mojo to throw a person through a wall?" Dean motioned over his shoulder to a Dean shaped hole in the wall where he had been thrown through.

"Dean…" Sam's voice broke weakly through the silence before Castiel had a chance to respond, and Dean was quickly by his side.

"Hey, Sammy. Take it easy, you took quite a knock." Sam squinted as Dean shone his retrieved flashlight in his face. "Sorry." He followed the beam of light as Dean also shone it in Castiel's face, but it remained unchanged. Dean let a small amount of air out of his nose that Sam took as a laugh at Castiel's unchanged face, then turned his attention to a small ribbon of red that ran down the back of Dean's neck. He turned his gaze further up his brother's head, then noticed a small piece of drywall stuck in the top of Dean's hair.

"Uh, Dean…?" He looked down at Sam. "You're bleeding." Dean's hand touched the top of his head, brushing away small pieces of drywall and plaster dust, making it just that little bit harder to see.

"Yeah…" Dean carried on brushing debris off his head absentmindedly, as if something was bothering him, and Castiel stared at him in a way that was typically Castiel.

"Dean." He turned to look at Castiel, who looked almost deep in thought. "We're not alone in here." Dean looked at him in disbelief. Of course they weren't alone. They had come here to get rid of a ghost that had been harassing single women and leaving some for dead.

"I know, Cas. The ghost, remember?" It was Castiel's turn to look at Dean in disbelief. Sam just sat on the floor, watching the exchange and sighed. He looked around the room, trying to figure out for himself what had thrown them, as unbeknownst to him, he also believed that a ghost was not strong enough to throw three people with as much force as it had done. He stared into the room, not really paying attention to it when he scrambled up, making himself dizzy with the speed he stood. He placed a hand on the wall to brace himself whilst his head readjusted itself, noticing the concern that quickly spread across Dean's face. Oh, he was not going to live this one down when he found out why he'd moved so quickly.

"Sam!" He grimaced.

"It's nothing, Dean. Honest. Just thought I saw something, and I didn't. That's all." The same look of disbelief that had been given to Castiel had now been dished out to him too. Sam grimaced again.

Dean gave Sam another look that said he didn't quite buy what Sam was selling, but he shook his head and shined his flashlight in the direction they were going before they had taken their little unexpected break. He led on, followed closely by Castiel and then Sam, shaking off the look Dean had given him.

From there, the rest of the night passed uneventfully, besides Dean being flung at another gravestone as he exited the grave of the ghost who had killed three women. It was about to go for him again when Sam threw the matchbook into the open grave, causing the ghost to erupt in an orange glow and flames, burning away quicker than paper. Dean let out a breath he didn't realise he had been holding, then slowly lifted himself off the floor, being careful of any dizziness that would accompany being thrown at walls and gravestones. He held a hand out to steady himself, and Castiel was at his side, supporting him, silent and unmoving. Dean nodded in thanks after checking it really was Castiel this time, and didn't argue when he began slowly leading him towards where they parked the Impala. Halfway there, Castiel paused, looking around the empty graveyard. Dean shifted slightly.

"Cas. There's nothing here anymore. C'mon, let's go." It was Castiel's turn to nod this time, supporting Dean the rest of the distance to his baby.

Further into the graveyard though, there was someone, face barely illuminated by the dwindling fire in the grave. They watched Sam leave before Castiel and Dean, then watched Castiel support Dean before pausing to turn and glance quickly back over the graveyard. They ducked, following a sharp intake of breath, and swore Castiel's eyes narrowed at the sound. He could not investigate further though, as Dean turned him around and was supported back to his car. The figure watched them all drive away, following their movements intently with blue eyes illuminated by the dwindling fire.

"I found him." The wind rustled the leaves, and the graveyard was empty again.


	2. I found him

**Chapter 2**

When they arrived back at the motel, only a bedside lamp was lit, giving the room an eerie glow. The shower was running, but that didn't seem to bother them as they stood, waiting for the other occupant to finish. They didn't have to wait long, as the squeak of the shower turning off broke through the silence like a knife through butter.

"I found him." A barely audible string of curses followed the statement, as the other occupant came out of the dingy motel bathroom.

"You found him?" Surprise tinged the other person's voice, with a subtle hint of nervousness. A nod came from the person in the main room, a girl, and a smile crossed her face.

"What about the other one, did you find her?" The smile quickly disappeared.

"I found her. She's dead. Stabbed, by the looks of it." More curses. "Turns out there was nothing we could have done about it." The other occupant, a male, kicked the end of the bed and cried out in pain. He turned back to the girl, tears almost brimming over the edge of his eyes.

"We finally find out who they are, and one of them is fucking DEAD?" Even though the tears were beginning to stream down his face, there was an unmistakeable anger in his voice. The wind began to pick up in tune with his anger, and the lamp that was lit exploded. The girl turned to look at him, his anger mirrored in her face.

"STOP IT!" The wind died down very quickly. She stepped closer to him, right up in his face, voice barely above a whisper.

"I know where he is, surely that should count for something? And so what if she's dead? She abandoned us, and so did he. This time, we're forcing our acknowledgement." The boy looked down at the girl, and she sighed, lifting her arms up so they were around his neck. "He will acknowledge us, Christian. He has to." He brought his head down to her shoulders and began to sob, her holding him tightly as they began to wrack his body. They stayed like that for hardly any time, Christian regaining his composure fairly quickly. He cleared his throat and wiped his eyes, then looked straight at her.

"Where is he, Morgan?" She looked down at her feet, shuffling them slightly. "Morgan?"

"I do know where he is! Sort of. I know who he's travelling with, and what they drive. It can't be that hard to find them from that, can it?"

"Who's he travelling with?" Another feet shuffle.

"Two men. It was too dark to figure out who they were though, although they seem really close to him. You don't think it's any of his brothers, do you?" A slight shade of fear crept into Morgan's voice at the prospect.

"It can't be. They've practically disowned him after everything he pulled over the past few years. It'll just mean getting to him will be that little bit harder."

"We're resourceful. Shouldn't hurt to look ourselves."

* * *

"OW! Son of a bitch!"

"Well, keep still, and I'll be able to sort it out!" Dean fidgeted under Sam's hands as he tried to make the gash on his crown less painful, and stop the bleeding. "Dammit Dean, keep still! Cas, can you lend a hand?" Castiel looked at Sam, puzzled, then held his hand out to him.

"Why do you want my hand?"

"Huh?" Sam looked up from the top of Dean's head to Castiel's outstretched arm, and laughed to himself. "No, Cas… Oh, nevermind." He looked puzzled again, and slowly brought his arm to rest back at his side.

"If that damn thing hadn't thrown me through a wall, we wouldn't even be doing this." Dean shifted under Sam's hands, batting them away in annoyance. "And we still don't know what the hell it was!"

"So, what do we know that is so strong? Angels and demons can do it, but there aren't really angels anymore." Castiel sat up straighter at the table, if it was possible for him to do so due to his abnormally straight posture. Dean noticed the slight shift.

"Cas, no one blames you for what happened. You didn't know Naomi was telling the truth about Metatron." Dean watched as Castiel slowly relaxed into his normally straight posture, and felt himself tense. "Sam. Get off me. I'll be fine." He felt Sam move away from him slowly, then stood up with his arm outstretched in case dizziness washed over him again.

"So, again. What the hell was whatever threw us?" Castiel looked at Sam, then Dean, then back to Sam. "Cas?"

"I did say there was something in there with us. Dean, however, refused to believe me. I do not know what it was though." Sam's eyes widened with realisation.

"It was… Whatever… I saw in that house, wasn't it? I couldn't make it out properly, but it looked pretty human shaped."

"That doesn't narrow it down, Sam. There are a lot of things that look human, but sure as hell aren't."

"Dean is right, Sam." Dean nodded, and paused mid-nod. He looked at Castiel, and his blue eyes caused a flashback. The image of the blue eyes after he got to his feet echoed through his skull, and he swore there was a familiar sound before he noticed it had disappeared.

"It helped me…" Dean's voice had gone very quiet, and the dingy motel lights made him suddenly feel claustrophobic. He bolted for the door, throwing it open with such force that it bounced off the wall before closing with a bang. Sam and Castiel stood there, rooted to the spot, before hearing the noise of retching coming from under the window. Sam looked over to Castiel, who looked like someone had kicked his puppy.

"I'll see if he's okay." Sam strode over to the door, opening it gingerly before peering around to see underneath the window. Dean was hunched over, heaving but nothing coming out of his mouth, looking pale now he knew that whatever had thrown them had a twisted sense of morality to help one of them up.

"Dean…?" He straightened up with his hands on the small of his back, leaning in a way that looked like he was going to crack his back. He let out a short breath, then shuddered in the way he did when he was disgusted, arms flailing and jacket falling off his shoulders.

"Why the hell did it help me, Sam? Why throw us the way it did, then help me up?" A small amount of colour was slowly making its way back into Dean's face, but Sam couldn't look at him. He didn't have any answers for his older brother, and the questions he asked were akin to the questions he wanted answering. He looked at Dean and just shook his head.

"Dunno. Guess we found another case though, huh?" Dean snorted. It wasn't exactly what he had wanted to look up, he kind of wanted to leave it the hell alone and let it be someone else's problem, probably Garth's, but part of him was curious.

"Yeah, I guess." He cleared his throat. "C'mon, let's try get some sleep, and we can start looking at it in the morning." Sam led the way back into the room where Castiel had fallen asleep on the crappy motel sofa, scoffing slightly at the sight of him. Dean quietly shut the door, then laughed himself at the same sight.

"Y'know, after all we've seen and done, seeing Cas sleep is the weirdest thing."

"He's not exactly what he used to be anymore, Dean."

"I know, but..." Dean paused. "You've seen how hard he fights to stay awake, like sleeping is a sign of weakness or something. He usually goes to sleep when we're not looking or after we have. He has to learn it's perfectly normal to go to sleep." Sam stared at Dean in disbelief.

"Dude... Did you just have a chick-flick moment?"

"No!" He flinched inwardly as the reply came too quickly. "Shut up..." Sam held his hands up in mock defensiveness, and promptly fell on the closest bed to sleep. He muttered under his breath about Dean being a girl as Dean settled himself in the other bed, earning a pair of balled up socks bouncing off his face.

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

* * *

Dean's dreams that night were particularly vivid, filled with flashed of the blue eyes that had helped him to his feet. He dreamt that they belonged to a girl who stood vigil over him as he was back on the jetty, fishing. A familiar place for him as it was where Castiel had appeared most memorably to Dean when he was forced from Jimmy's vessel.

"How do you know Castiel?" The blue eyed girl spoke first, breaking the tranquility of Dean's dream.

"Huh?" It was then that Dean noticed that she was even there, not noticing the colour of her eyes straight away. She repeated the question as he turned away from the lake, looking at her for the first time.

"Why d'you wanna know? Who the hell are you anyway?" Something about her seemed familiar, like she was someone he hadn't really known properly from his childhood. "I'm not answering anything until you tell me that." She tilted her head in confusion, and for a few brief moments Dean could have sworn it was... "Cas?" Nothing happened. "Now is not the time to develop a sense of humor."

"I am not Castiel. I only wish to know how you know him."

"Nice try sweetheart. Now who the hell are you?" The girl sighed and leaned in closer to Dean.

"I am trying to do this in a way that will not cause you discomfort. However, if you continue to test my patience, I will find what I want in a different way." It was in those moments that Dean realised why she looked familiar. A shade of blue that had been haunting him for the past few hours stared intently at him, but they lacked the apologetic shine they had earlier. In their place was a cold, calculating blue that Dean had only ever seen once before, and the memories were not pleasant ones.

"You..." Dean's voice didn't seem to get through to the girl merely inches away from his face.

"Well, since you seem reluctant to hand over what I want to know, I shall have to remove it myself." Two fingers moved closer to his forehead, and he found himself unable to move. The sky above the lake became overcast, and a chill reached deeper into Dean's bones the closer the girl's fingers got to his forehead. When they reached his skin, they were cold but allowed a blinding white pain to shoot through his head. He gritted his teeth as he tried not to cry out, but failed and cried out anyway.

"Dean!" Even in this much pain, he couldn't help but think that the voice sounded remarkably like Sam's, even though he was nowhere to be seen. It sounded faint too, as if he was somewhere just beyong the reaches of being able to figure out where it actually came from.

"Dean! Dean! DEAN!" The shouting got louder and more insistent until he sat up in shock, snapping his eyes open at the same time and fumbling for something real to hold on to. He grabbed an arm, looking up to see it belonged to Sam. He looked around again, almost wildly, eyes freezing on Castiel when he spotted him. He looked as though he had been woken from his sleep in the worst way possible, his coat at an awkward angle and his hair stuck up more on one side of his head than the other. It took Dean a moment to realise who it was, after launching himself at him and landing a couple of decent punches before Sam managed to pull him off him.

"Dean! What the hell?" Sam ducked Dean's punch to his face, and landed one of his own to try and bring his sense back to him.

"Where is she? Where the hell is she?" He took another swing in Sam's direction, trying to make him let go of him, but he missed.

"Cas, help me! Cas?" Sam looked round to see Castiel lying back on the sofa, a small trickle of blood coming out of his nose. He couldn't help but think that it was a nosebleed rather than a couple of well landed blows to the face.

"Dean! Oh, for God's sake." He took a deep breath. "Sorry for this, Dean, I really am." With that, Sam punched Dean square in the face, making sure he would fall back on the bed. Dean only saw Sam's fist coming at the last possible second, and then his world went black for the second time that day.


	3. Only one sided

**Chapter 3**

The information had been hard to get, but worth it now Morgan knew more about Castiel than ever before. She was tempted not to tell Christian, but knew that if he didn't get the information from her then he would put Dean through the same experience, and even though it had been neccessary, she didn't want him to have to experience it more than once. Christian was waiting in the motel room with a knowing look on his face when she returned from Dean's dream. He couldn't help but join in her laughter as she used Dean's eyes to see the carnage she had created, and smiled broadly at her brother.

"What did you find out, then?" If possible, Morgan's smile got broader. She pulled Christian into a hug and tugged his ear closer to her mouth.

"Let me show you." She gently placed two fingers to his forehead, causing no pain to him like it had Dean. Everything she had managed to take from him before the taller of the three of them had woken him up passed over to Christian, and came away from him with a contented sigh when everything she had learnt had been shared. She suddenly got a niggling feeling that the opinions of Castiel were only one sided, but she neglected to share that with Christian.

"Surely we have enough now to get him without them knowing?" Morgan didn't look convinced.

"I think we need a little more. The taller one in some of the memories - I think we need his opinion and how he knows Castiel."

"How?" Morgan paused. "Morgan. How?"

"Well, I played to his side of it. You play to hers. From what we got off..." She paused again to remember the name of the person she had stolen the thoughts from. "Dean... It seems the tall one prefers her sort to his." Christian nodded. There were ways he could make himself more appealing to the taller one, or he could just go straight in. He was thankful for the messed up way that both he and his sister had been created. Just a couple of small accidents in the non-conventional way, and - poof! - existence from nothing. When it could be revealed why they existed, it would be earth shattering. Morgan and Christian could barely wait.

"Shall we mess with the tall one then? See how he knows Castiel, and take those too?" Morgan's face splitting smile returned.

"I'll let you do it this time Christian. I think it should have settled down again after my... Intrusion." A small look of doubt crossed Christian's face. "What?"

"How can you get into the head of someone you've never met or touched?"

"You can do it. Who threw them in that room? That's how I could get into Dean's head - I helped him up again afterwards." Smiles spread across both their faces.

"Guess I'll see you soon then. I'll bring you the other perspective as soon as I've got it." And with the tiny sound remarkably like the flutter of wings, Christian was gone.

* * *

Sam couldn't believe how frenzied Dean had seemed after he had started crying out in pain, and the way he had thrown himself at Castiel like he had never seen him before, or like he had offended him in a way Sam had never seen before either. The frenzy had only really started once Dean had clapped eyes on Castiel, and it just would not compute with Sam as to why. He couldn't exactly ask either because of the way he had to restain Dean. He looked over again at Castiel, the small trickle of blood dried from his nostril to near his chin, passing over his lips, and Sam couldn't help a sigh passing his own. It had been a long night, and he just wanted to sleep. Both beds had been taken though, as he had moved Castiel onto the other bed after Dean had been taken care of. He collapsed on the sofa Castiel had occupied not so long ago, and grumbled slightly because it was too small for his height. He couldn't help but think that they never made sofas large enough.

As soon as Sam had laid his head on the arm of the sofa, sleep claimed him as its own, and he began to dream straight away. He was replaying the events of the day back over in his head, pausing at the house where they had been thrown apart and their peculiar evening had started. The events happened exactly as they had when he was awake, only he noticed the extra man there this time around, with dazzlingly blue eyes. They looked remarkably like Castiel's.

"Cas?" The man shook his head, and smiled one of the brightest smiles that Sam had ever seen as the blue vanished, replaced by black that filled the whole of the eye. Sam jumped back and collided with a wall that he didn't remember being there.

"Okay, this can't be happening... Demons can't get into dreams... This isn't happening." Sam muttered under his breath, pressing hard on the scar on his hand that he had used to get rid of the hallucinations of Lucifer. He opened his eyes as he took his hand off the scar, unaware that he had even shut his eyes in the first place, but the other man was still there.

"What do you want?" Sam shouted it towards the other occupant. He blinked, and the black gave way to the blinding blue, then he smiled again.

"Well, aren't you quick to cotton on? And I'm suprised you jumped so much, you used to love people like me." The smile took a slightly sinister turn when Sam flinched, remembering all the times he had been with Ruby. When he remembered about drinking her blood, he involuntarily licked his lips, causing the other man to laugh.

"Do we taste that good? Do you want some more?" Sam licked his lips again as he noticed the other man pull a box cutter from his pocket, slowly drawing it across his palm, causing blood to drip to the floor. "C'mon, how long has it been since you had some? Think of what you can do with it, how strong you are. Bit of this and you can get rid of me, no problem." He almost sounded like he was purring the words, moving closer to Sam as he spoke until they were barely six inches apart. Sam looked down at the other man, and couldn't help but laugh a little bit when all he saw was the top of his head. He didn't even come up to Sam's shoulder. He was quickly brought out of his laughing when the shorter man began to laugh too, the black eyes of a demon taking over the blue again.

"You should know better than to let someone like me so close." And before Sam could register what he had said, two bloody fingers had been placed against his forehead and a sharp pain filled his head. The shorter man gasped in shock and eyes widened as the information filled his mind. Sam grunted in pain, and Christian could feel that he was nowhere near to screaming out like Dean had done. Unusually though, Christian could feel slight tendrils of thought coming back to him from the connection to the tall one where his fingertips were on his forehead. The feeling annoyed him, like a fly that won't leave you alone and keeps landing on you. Christian swatted the feeling away, only to have it come back each time. It carried on the whole time they were connected, until Christian pulled his fingers away and disappeared before Sam had time to even begin recovering.

Sam woke up with a start, hearing nothing but Dean's quiet snoring and a small thud as he saw Castiel's hand bounce off the lampshade and smack him in the face. Sam snorted, then looked over at the small travel alarm clock on the same table. 06:34. He stood and stretched, moving to the bathroom as he did so, yawning as he opened the bathroom door. Turning on the dim light, he supported himself on the basin as he leaned in closer to the cracked mirror and ran a hand over his jaw, deciding if he needed to shave or not. He let his eyes wander over his features, thinking back on the dream he had just had and the short demon that had casually invaded it. His mind drifted toward the blue/black eyes, and his hand slowly lifted up to where he had touched Sam's forehead. It was warm, but Sam wasn't suprised by that, waking up with a warm or wet forehead depending on the dream he had had. He brought his hand back down, then stopped. There was something red on his fingertips, and he didn't think it was there before he had gone to sleep. If Dean had caught him during his freak out earlier, Sam was going to make sure that he got him back properly. He leaned closer to the mirror, and moved his fringe out of the way so he could properly survey the damage Dean had done. He let his hand fall back down to his side, reaching there before his fringe had even begun to fall back into its normal place. On his forehead were two perfect fingerprints, left in blood by a short demon with blue/black eyes. Why did Sam want to call him Christian? Thinking back on the dream, Sam remembered the innate psychic think he had wanting to reach out and connect with whatever it was the short demon was doing. and Sam thought it had thrown a name out to him. Christian. Well, at least he knew who had invaded his dreams. And why did he have vague memories of him looking for Castiel? Sam just groaned as his head began to protest at him rooting through something that had him very confused. Banging on the bathroom door pulled him out of his thinking, and he turned to the door as someone banged on it again.

"Sam, if you're using all the hot water, I swear..."

"Just a minute! Jesus, Dean." Sam quickly washed the bloody fingerprints off his forehead, and opened the door to let Dean in. "What?"

"C'mon, man, let me in. A guy's gotta take a leak."

"After what you pulled earlier, you think I'm gonna let you?" A confused look crossed Dean's face. "You're telling me you don't remember? Dude, Cas slept like a log after the punches you landed last night." Dean whipped round to see Castiel still asleep on the other bed.

"I did that? Hey, I thought he was on the sofa..."

"Dean!"

"Sorry! I don't remember doing that... What the hell happened, Sam?"

"You don't remember that dream or anything, do you?" Dean shook his head. "Guess that makes three of us who don't really know what happened..."


	4. Our nature

**Chapter 4**

06:34. That was the time when Christian stumbled into his and Morgan's motel room, collapsing onto the closest bed with a grunt. Morgan was by his side before he had finished falling, worry etched all over her face as what he was feeling radiated off him. He didn't say anything, and Morgan reached out cautiously to touch him to try and comfort him, only to have him jump away from her whilst she was an inch away from his skin. He avoided her gaze as he rolled off the bed, making his way to the bathroom where he could get some degree of privacy, where he could collect himself after the encounter with the tall one that travelled with Castiel. He sorted through the memories he had collected to try and get even a glimpse of a name, but nothing cried out to him. Christian hoped a shower would help his thoughts get in order as Morgan just sat on the bed he had vacated, staring after him. She hadn't had to endure what he had endured, but he needed to share the memories with her, and he would try to hide the experience from her, probably with little chance of success. He quickly decided a shower would definitely help him get the thoughts in order, accidentally slamming the door shut just as Morgan called out his name. Morgan was still sat on the bed, now staring at the door to the bathroom rather than her brother's back. She was hurt - Christian had never flinched at her touch before, and it was a feeling she didn't want to experience again. The sound of the shower turning on brought her out of her reverie, and she turned away, sifting through the memories she had collected from Dean, to try and draw some degree of knowledge and comfort from them. Her mood meant that all the memories drawn to her consciousness were ones of hurt, so she quickly abandoned that venture. She stood and stretched, deciding fresh air would probably help more, when an idea struck her. Smiling, she hastily wrote a note for Christian and vanished, the pen clattering to the table, unnoticed by Christian.

When Morgan reappeared, the smell of sulphur overwhelmed her senses, confirming she had arrived where she had intended even though it looked nothing like what she had imagined. The corridor seemed to go on forever, with just a single file of people waiting what looked like patiently. If Morgan hadn't been able to feel the annoyance and aggrivation radiating off them, she would assume that patiently was indeed how they were waiting. Part of her enjoyed the feeling she could sense, but the other part knew that it was an awful way to spend eternity.

"If you're staying, I'd suggest you take a ticket." The British accent she had been expecting helped her to collect herself, leaving the two halves of her nature fighting it out in her subconscious.

"And if it's just a fleeting visit?" She turned around, smiling, letting the black eyed illusion come down over the blue. "Stuff's happening upstairs, and you don't think I'd leave you out of it, do you now?" She let the black down, showing the natural blue and shuddering internally at the use of that side of her nature. Morgan looked over at the owner of the British accent and smirked at the look of confusion on their face.

"I'm sorry, but have we met?"

"Never had the pleasure, Crowley. But I know who you are, and I need information from you." Morgan stepped forwards to close the gap between the two of them, but Crowley took a step back. There was something about her that put him off in a big way, but he cursed the involuntary step backwards. Damn Moose and his damned ritual. He shifted where he stood, trying to regain his composure and stare down the girl who was ordering him around. Crowley couldn't help but think that she looked remarkably like the vessel Castiel had taken possession of.

"You know, you look an awful lot like someone I know. Sure we haven't met, darling?" She moved closer to him again, closing the gap between the two of them, and Crowley secretly marvelled at the power radiating from within her. It all seemed familiar in different ways, which confused him.

"I believe you knew someone who I'm looking for information on. In fact, I believe you killed her." Crowley blinked. "Why d'you kill her, Crowley? Why d'you kill Meg?" Crowley blinked again, trying to remember who Meg was. He'd killed a lot of people, and didn't bother attempting to know all their names. He rolled his shoulder as a fragment of a memory came back, of being stabbed with an angel killing blade and stabbing back with his own. Then a name hit him. Meg. Now he remembered.

"She stabbed me first..." He, muttered under his breath, trailing off at the end of the sentence, forgetting the close proximity to the girl who gave him the creeps. He didn't register a fist, but the next thing he knew he was on his back, skidding some distance down the corridor. He sat up meeting dazzlingly blue eyes that shone with fury. She grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket and pulled him closer to her face, noses mere millimetres away from touching. Even in those moments, he couldn't help but have his anger flare at another ruined suit.

"Watch the suit! Bloody hell..." He tried to remove her hands, but they had him in a vice like grip.

"Grow up, Crowley. Now, tell me what I want to know. What was the relationship like between Meg and Castiel?" He moved back as far as he could in her grip, but Morgan was unwielding. It was the only way she was likely to get any answers. Crowley cleared his throat.

"Meg and Castiel?" Blue stared coldly at him. "She looked after him after he removed Moose's psychosis and they got pretty chummy after that because he wouldn't let anyone hurt her. Except me, but Castiel had all but disappeared before it had happened. She stopped me getting my hands on his feathery arse, so I stabbed her, killed her whilst he wasn't around." Crowley noticed a slight shift in her posture. "Ooh, did I hit a nerve?" This time he saw the fist, and felt it connect with his jaw as it snapped out of place. "OW!" Morgan stood up and spat at his feet.

"Screw you, Crowley." She made a move to leave, but Crowley grabbed her ankle.

"Why don't you look into the vessel's past? That might give you more information into their, eh, relationship?" Morgan barely made out what he had said because of his broken jaw before she realised the sulphur smell had gone, signalling that Crowley had left. Morgan quickly followes suit, leaving only the queue to move forward a place next to a long skid in the dirt and a small amount of blood near where the skid ended - the only evidence of any confrontation.

* * *

When Crowley reappeared, he found it unusual to be staring out of a window that looked out on to asphalt, but a familiar smell brought him back to his senses. He turned around, not suprised to see the Winchesters and Castiel stood near the bowl used to summon him.

"Hello..." Crowley stopped, spitting out blood whilst ignoring the bemused look from the Winchesters. Castiel just looked understanding as he reset his jaw, wiping a small trickle of blood off his chin.

"What do you want?" Dean was barely supressing laughter as Sam stepped forward, almost into Crowley's personal space. "And watch where you put yourself, Moose. I got my bite back." He moved closer to Sam to prove his point, but hit an invisible wall before he got too close. Looking down, he saw the Devil's Trap chalked on the floor and almost snarled at Sam and Dean. Whoever that girl was had really set him on edge.

"Jesus, what got your panties in a twist?" Dean received a look off Castiel for the use of blasphemy, and a very black look off Crowley. "In fact, I don't care. I just wanna know why you got demons runnin' round people's heads pretending to be angels!" Castiel noted that Sam must have told Dean about the nights events whilst he was still asleep, and the black look disappeared off Crowley's face, being replaced with confusion and then realisation. He straightened his tie and met Dean's stare head on.

"Whilst I'd like to take credit for that one, boys, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint. More of the bastards are starting to follow Abbadon, so they might be hers. And if you hadn't noticed, one of them took a disliking to my jaw." He rubbed a hand across it as if to make a point, then put it back into the pocket of his jacket.

"Looks like more than just a disliking of your jaw. You look like you were on the losing end of a fight." Crowley turned the black look on to Sam, who crossed his arms over his chest and perched on a chair that Crowley hadn't noticed earlier. "Was it Abbadon?"

"No. Crowley does not bear the scent of a Knight of Hell." Castiel's sudden input into the discussion made Crowley jump, and he found himself damning the Moose and the ritual again. Castiel pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on, and discared his coat to the chair Sam was perched on, making his way to the Devil's Trap Crowley was stuck in. He walked right up to the chalk like and began to carefully circle around Crowley, inhaling deeply as he did so.

"Uh, Cas... What are you doing?" He stopped, head tilted in confusion, and inhaled deeply twice more, ignoring Dean's question.

"He does not have the scent of Abbadon on him..."

"We've established." Sarcasm dripped from Crowley's voice.

"But the scent is familiar." Castiel turned to face Crowley. "Why would an angel and a demon attack you simultaneously?" Now Crowley looked confused.

"I've never been attacked by both, not at once. And the girl was a demon - maybe she'd had the altercation with an angel? I don't bloody know!" He paused, thinking about her appearance. The blue eyes sent a jolt down his spine, and he turned to stare angrily at Castiel.

"You! She bloody looked like you, or your meatsuit, or whatever!" Dean stood up now, walking towards Crowley whilst moving Castiel back at the same time. They glowered at each other over the chalk line before Dean stopped.

"She wasn't a demon, Crowley. Trust me, she was a freakin' angel!" He turned to look at Castiel. "She did look a lot like you though, Cas..." He furrowed his eyebrows at the second mention of someone unknown looking like him. He also wondered why it was relevant.

"Why is that relevant?"

"She asked about you. Wanted to know what your relationship to Meg was." Crowley shrugged. "Told her I didn't know, she broke my jaw, went seperate ways." Now Castiel looked confused. He hadn't had any relationship besides their shared kiss after learning it off the pizza man, but a small part of him thought that Crowley was probably not letting on as much as he really knew. Dean nudged him, breaking his chain of thought.

"What aren't you telling us, Cas?" Castiel turned the confused look to Dean.

"I do not know what you wish me to say, Dean. I have no knowledge of what Crowley is implying." Crowley coughed, drawing the attention back to him.

"I think you know, angel. Did you look into your meatsuit before you chose it, or did you just choose at random?"

"I don't understand wha-" Crowley held his hand up to stop Castiel talking, earning him an annoyed look.

"Look into your meatsuit a bit more, you'll get it." He turned his attention back to Sam and Dean, leaving Castiel looking like a fish out of water. "As for your angel/demon/girl... Whatever. Wasn't me, now may I?" He gestured towards the chalk of the Devil's Trap, which Dean begrudgingly wiped a spot away with his foor, allowing Crowley to leave. He grunted in thanks.

"Pleasure doing business with you boys." And he disappeared.


	5. New feelings

**Chapter 5**

Castiel stared at the empty Devil's Trap, mind whirling with the cryptic information that Crowley had dumped on him, and that meant that it had also been dumped on to Sam and Dean. He genuinely had no clue as to what Crowley had meant by looking into Jimmy's past - he was devout and was willing to let Castiel use him as a vessel, so why did he need to care? The memory of him entering Jimmy was still painful, as a celestial being the size of the Chrysler building being condensed to a human sized celestial being hurt, his grace being manipulated to accommodate a smaller vessel. The memory caused him to shudder and swallow involuntarily, hand rubbing where Metatron had cut his grace from him.

"Cas?" He registered the voice as Dean's, but made no move to acknowledge him. He was still trying to figure out what Crowley had meant.

"Cas." This time he blinked, looking away from the chalk line, and he shook his head to try and clear his thoughts. As it didn't work, he found himself missing the voices of other angels in his head.

"Hmmm?" He finally looked at Dean, who was staring at Castiel intently. Castiel could almost see the brain processing information behind his eyes, false trying to figure out what Crowley had meant about Jimmy. He had seemed a nice enough guy the one time they had met, and Dean had almost felt jealous of him that he had a more stable family than he had. There was also understanding at how family oriented he was as Dean would do anything for Sammy as Jimmy would have done for Claire and Amy.

"Hey, you okay?" Castiel's shudder had not gone unnoticed, even if Dean said nothing about it. Now Castiel was effectively human, there were still some places Dean didn't even want to think about going, and this was one he hoped would be breached in time. He repressed a shudder of his own, and went to stand by the fallen Angel.

"Cas, c'mon. You okay, man? You know Crowley was probably just messing with you about Jimmy?" Castiel just looked at Dean with a sad look behind his eyes, not knowing what Crowley had been on about eating away at him.

"I know that it is possible Crowley was not telling the truth, but..." Castiel paused. "There have been times when his information has been correct."

"You can't expect this to be one of them, Cas... Even if he seems to know what he's on about." The last part was said under Dean's breath, but the look off Castiel told Dean it had been heard. He didn't even know why he was siding with Crowley, it never went very well. He looked around the room for Sam, who was starting to carry ingredients back down to the Impala, so that avenue of help had been abruptly closed on him. Dean grimaced, knowing Sam would have heard their conversation and decided to let Dean dig himself out of this one alone. Again. Dean cleared his throat and looked up from his boots to Castiel's face, which looked stony from his comment.

"Look, Cas - I'm sorry. It's just... Crowley does have a point about this girl looking like you... Or Jimmy... Or whatever. Maybe this once we look into it, and if nothing comes up, we drop it and bury it for good, yeah?" He looked Castiel dead in the eyes, trying to guess what emotion he was feeling. Even though he wasn't an angel, it was still difficult.

"... I believe that may be the best course of action." He answered Dean's question slowly, still slightly annoyed at the earlier comment, but decided to drop it in favour of getting answers.

"Right then. Good. All that emotional crap sucks anyway." He spoke as he turned away from Castiel, noticing Sam stood in the doorway and nodding at him. Sam nodded back, an unspoken conversation occuring between the two of them that Castiel was still yet to understand. Being human had done nothing to help his understanding of them, but he still held firm the hope that he would have his grace back sooner than later. He furrowed his eyebrows, still trying to figure out what about Jimmy's past Crowley had been referring to. He was brought out of it by Dean clapping his hands together, also startling Sam, who was still a little fragile from the trials. Dean flinched.

"Sorry, Sammy." Sam gave him a look. "Anyway... We got more to research. We gotta find out who that bitch is, and see if there's any truth to what Crowley said, but I vote for food first." Sam nodded again, and snorted at Dean's constant need to eat. He turned to look at Castiel, who had suddenly started to look very pale.

"You okay, Cas?" Sam's voice was tinged with worry.

"I am fine, Sam. My head hurts... A little, but I will be fine." He took a step forward and swayed, almost falling over. "That's new..." Sam barely heard the mutter before Castiel slumped, becoming an almost dead weight.

"Woah, careful Cas." No response. "Cas?" Sam lifted his head up to see if he was awake, and it lolled back towards his chest. "Son of a... Dean! Dean!" The pounding of boots back down the corridor could have woken the dead, but Castiel remained still.

"Sam! I heard you shout, what happ..." The colour drained from Dean's face as he dropped to his knees, having Castiel handed over to him. "Cas? Cas?" He slapped his face to try and get a response, but there was nothing. "Shit. We need to get back to the bunker, now." Dean stood, lifting Castiel over his shoulder as he walked down towards the Impala, tossing Sam the keys as he manouvered him into the backseat.

"Just hang in there Cas, you hear me? You hang in there, you son of a bitch." That was the last thing Castiel registered before he blacked out completely.

* * *

The smell of sulphur was strong in Morgan's nostirls as she reappeared in the motel room she and Christian were occupying, and her sudden appearance startled Christian, who was staring solemly at a wall. He had read Morgan's note, and could smell the sulphur that had clung to her clothes, but still didn't acknowledge her even though he still had to share the memories of the strange, tall man. She sat down on the same bed, staying a foot away from her brother until she could feel he was ready for her to be closer, and Christian just nodded in understanding. He was glad that Morgan understood emotions the way she did, otherwise he was afraid that he would hurt her. He brought his legs up underneath himself and leaned into Morgan, and she automatically put her arm around his shoulders, rubbing a soothing pattern on his shoulder with her thumb. This allowed a slow trickle of memories from the tall one to pass between the two of them, and Christian received the information that Morgan had learned from Crowley about Castiel and his vessel. Christian's anger flared up when he learnt that Crowley had killed Meg, allowing a strong breeze to blow a window open and for Morgan to abruptly remove her touch. They glared at each other for a moment, waiting for the wind to die down before Morgan began to calm Christian down again with the soothing pattern on his shoulder. The memories began to pass between them again, only Morgan could feel an abnormal amount of worry coming from her brother as she saw the way he had gained the memories. She gained all the memories by replacing her thumb with her palm, drawing it away with a yelp as they all passed over, causing Christian to tumble to the floor.

"What the hell was that?" A small amount of anger crept into Morgan's voice, causing the light bulbs to begin flickering. Christian swallowed, clearly nervous, and did his best to avoid looking at his sister. He knew that unless Morgan got answers, there was the very real possibility of the state losing its power to her anger, and drawing the Winchesters straight to them. Christian thought that it wouldn't be a bad thing, but Morgan heard his thoughts and made the lamp closest to him explode, showering him in glass shards and bits of lampshade.

"What happened, Christian? Why did that hurt?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, but Christian feared the power it held. It was times like these he understood why she chose to allow Castiel's side of her nature to win out - the raw power was definitely worthy of his awe compared to Meg's side. Another bulb exploded over his head, drawing him out of his thoughts and showering him on more glass fragments as he turned to his sister, almost ready to explain why it had hurt her.

"Okay, okay!" The lights stopped flickering but Morgan continued to glower up at her brother. "Just... No more bulb exploding." She huffed in response and sat back down on the bad they had both been sat on not so long ago. Christian took a deep breath, and knew that a barrage of questions would follow the information that he was about to share.

"Okay. It hurt because of what the taller one is. He's one of Azazel's special children, he was supposed to lead all the demons when they were released from the Devil's Gate, and he was Lucifer's pre-ordained vessel. Hell, Lucifer even wore him for a bit and walked on Earth." Morgan let the information sink in as Christian sat on the bed opposite her, facing away from her. He didn't want her gaze on him as the information sunk in, and he didn't want her to blame him for the pain. It was the stupid tall one's fault, whose name Christian still couldn't recall, and it frustrated him. Morgan looked through the memories she had got from Dean, the information Christian had told her matching up with them there were other things intertwined, and Morgan shuddered.

"Shit." Christian turned around, perplexed by his sister's outburst.

"What?"

"We're going after Castiel, but he's protected by the Winchesters. One WAS Lucifer, and the other was supposed to be the Michael Sword! They have bested all the archangels and the king of Hell, they stopped the damn apocalypse! How on Earth are we going to get to one angel?" As Morgan rattled off the events, the memories came to Christian from both perspectives, and he wondered how just two people could be mixed in with it all so much.

"We'll find a way, we always do. Even they aren't perfect, Morgan." She just sighed, shoulders slumped, and Christian could feel the disappointment radiating off her in waves. His shoulders also slumped, and he found himself seeking the solace of the bathroom once more. He watched Morgan lie on the bed and roll on to her side, then disappeared, leaving her wallowing in her sorrow.


	6. Fallen

**Chapter 6**

Dreams were something that Castiel was still struggling to get used to, random flashes of a person or a place disorienting him and making him long for a time when he didn't have to sleep. This one was particularly confusing, with Sam and Dean flickering in and out of his eyesight, and light causing him some discomfort before one or both of them swam into focus. There was some noise too, but it sounded muffled, as though Castiel was underwater, and he was on the verge of willing it to sound clearer before it all disappeared again. There was a feeling of frustration that he knew was burning at his core, and Castiel wanted the dreams and frustration to go away. He didn't know where he was, but knew that getting to Sam and Dean was going to help get rid of the dreams and frustration.

"Cas...!" He saw himself turn in response to his name being called out, and he saw himself tense as it was called out again. "Cas!" A blinding white light drew him out of the confusion, and he bolted upright, coughing and spluttering as water dripped down his face. Sam stood away to the side with an apologetic look on his face, and Dean was stood in front of him, a bucket barely clasped in his fingers. Castiel motioned for the bucket as he put his head between his knees, and it barely made its way to him before his stomach rebelled against him and emptied its contents into it. Dean grimaced as Castiel's shoulders shuddered with the effort of keeping him upright, and Sam moved to rub his back in an attempt to make him more comfortable whilst giving Dean one of the many bitch-faces he had in his arsenal. Dean shrugged, not knowing what to do, and Sam pointed in the direction of the kitchen.

"Water, Dean." He hesitated. "Now." He headed to the kitchen, taking a look back at Castiel and feeling suddenly over protective of the fallen angel, who looked weak and vulnerable compared to what he had been before Metatron. Dean clenched his fists, trying to will his anger back under control, to save it for the next unfortunate son of a bitch who crossed him. An angel of the lord should not be puking his guts up into a bucket, Dean thought. He sighed, grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge and walked back to see Castiel's head out of the bucket, but he looked worse for wear by a long shot. Dean held the bottle out, and Castiel took it gratefully.

"You probably shouldn't try and drink it all at once. Just try and take small sips, and see if it stays down first."

"Thank you, Dean. And Sam." Castiel took a gulp of the water and swilled it around his mouth, grimacing as it spread the acidic taste around before spitting it into the bucket. He then took a longer drink and swallowed, grimacing again, but took another to try and wash the taste away.

"This is... Not enjoyable." Sam had moved away, allowing Dean to take the now vacated seat. Dean carried on what Sam was doing, and Castiel leaned into him, placing his head on the hunter's shoulder. He sighed, tiredness washing over him again, but Dean gently shook him awake.

"Cas, c'mon man. You need to dry off and try eat something. And we still have to look into whatever Crowley meant about Jimmy." Dean felt Castiel's shoulders slump, and he slowly removed his head from his shoulder. Dean stood first, extending a hand to help Castiel back to his feet, who swayed a little before managing to stand without Dean's help. He looked down at himself, suit disheveled and dirty, and sighed again. Dean picked up on it, concern etching its way slowly onto his face.

"Hey, don't worry. It'll wash." He paused. "Actually, give them here. You go shower, and I'll get Sam to wash these. I'm sure I'll find something for you for the time being." Castiel looked down at himself again and let himself be led to a room, and Dean left him to sort himself out. He stood outside the room with the door firmly closed until a thud from the other side of it made him turn to face it.

"You okay in there Cas?" There was the muffled sound of movement before he got any answer.

"I believe I require your assistance." Dean slowly opened the door, expecting Castiel to not have started or be stuck with an item of clothing that he previously had no experience with. He was right with the latter, as Castiel was sat on the floor with his trousers at his knees but shirt and suit jacket folded neatly to the side of him. Dean was trying his hardest not to laugh, but Castiel's face made him tip over the edge, the pure look of sadness bringing the laughter forth.

"I don't understand - why is this funny?" If possible, Castiel looked even sadder, and Dean wiped the tears that had creeped out off his face.

"Man, I haven't laughed that hard since you told that stripper about her dad..." A few more tears had run down Dean's face, and he took a couple of deep breaths, trying to compose himself. "What happened in here anyway, Cas?" Castiel blushed, then looked in the direction of his trousers. Dean looked down, and he understood how his angelic friend had fallen in a very unangelic way.

"You fell over them, didn't you?" A deeper shade of red covered Castiel's face, and Dean knew that he had hit the problem squarely on the head. "Hey, it's okay. Happens to the best of us, more often than you'd think. Sam does it all the time, but only because he's freakishly tall." Castiel cracked a small smile and Dean counted it as a small victory as he again sat beside the fallen angel.

"Is being human always this difficult?"

"Not for those who've always had it like this, Cas." He sighed, and Dean clapped a hand on his shoulder as a gesture of support. "We'll have you as though you've never been human as soon as we can, I swear. But for now, you have to slum it with the rest of us." Castiel and Dean stood, Castiel managing not to fall over as he stepped out of the trousers and turned to face Dean. He was promptly turned around and walked into the bathroom that was connected to what was now his room.

"Okay. You turn these until the water is warm enough for you, then get in. You, uh, need to take those off before you get in though." Dean blushed, motioning to Castiel's underwear before hastily turning around. "I'll put clean stuff on the bed for you, shout if you need anything." He quickly walked out, hearing Castiel muttering to himself as the squeak of the dials told him he was trying to figure them out.

"Never thought you'd be teaching a grown man how to shower?" Sam was leaning in the doorframe, and Dean jumped, having not seen his younger brother. How he's missed a 6'4" moose, Dean would never know.

"Jesus, Sammy! Way to give a guy a heart attack..." Sam scoffed, slightly satisfied that he had managed to get some degree of revenge after being startled before Castiel passed out. "What?"

"Nothing. Well - something."

"Well... What did you find, nerd?"

"You're gonna wanna get Cas for this. It's important."

"Sam! Dammit, what's so important?"

"I found something. About Jimmy. So yeah, we're gonna need Cas for this." Sam walked off, leaving Dean dumbfounded. He didn't hear Castiel walk up behind him.

"Dean?" He jumped again, cursing.

"Dammit, Cas!" He turned around, almost bumping into Castiel, who nearly dropped the towel that was keeping his modesty covered.

"Dean!" Castiel barely managed to keep it in place before running back to the room he's come out of. Dean cursed. Again.

"Crap. Cas! Cas!" Dean followed him, grabbing an armful of clean clothes that had been promised and almost barrelled into the angel as the door opened. Castiel quickly moved aside, but didn't move his foot quick enough, sending Dean flailing to the floor, the pile of clothes landing wherever they pleased.

"Clothes." The first piece of clothing Dean found was held aloft to prove his point, his voice muffled from landing face down on the carpet. Castiel laughed, taking whatever it was that Dean was holding and placing it on the bed.

"Are you okay, Dean?"

"Peachy. Just peachy." He rolled himself onto his back and sat up, groaning as his shoulder popped and cracked. "Uhhh... Did you shower yet?"

"Not yet."

"Well, it'll have to wait. Sam found something about Jimmy, so you'll have to get dressed and come on. I think he thinks you might remember, with him being your vessel and all." Castiel huffed, grabbing the remainder of clothes off the floor whilst Dean moved out of the room, allowing Castiel the privacy to get himself re-dressed. It was a couple of minutes before Castiel followed, the words Crowley had said bouncing around in his skull. A memory of red flashed before his eyes, making him stop mid-step and almost falling down the couple of steps connecting the two main rooms of the bunker. Sam stared at him, laughing to himself slightly at Castiel hovering above the step whilst Dean looked concerned at the confused look on his face.

"Cas?" The glossed over look disappeared and he snapped back to reality, his foot coming down on the step and the rest of him following it down.

"Yes, Dean?"

"You okay?"

"I am fine, Dean." He turned away to look at Sam, who was giving Dean a puzzled look. "Sam. You said you found some information about Jimmy?" This time Sam snapped back to reality, looking at Castiel then down at the open laptop in front of him.

"Uh, yeah." Sam pulled the laptop closer to him, clicking something on the screen and turning it back so Dean and Castiel could see it, pushing it away from him again. A news article from Pontiac, Illinois filled the screen, so Dean knew that they were at least in the right area for it to be about Jimmy. Castiel leaned closer to the computer, eyes flicking back and forth quicker than Dean's, so Dean didn't see Castiel step back after reading the article, but heard him fall over one of the chairs that surrounded the table. Sam let Dean finish reading and went to help Castiel, whose face had drained of any colour it had regained from earlier. His legs felt weak, and Sam had to help him sit on a chair, Castiel's knuckles white with how hard he was holding on to Sam's shirt. A fine layer of sweat coated his forehead, making him look worse tha he was, and it was then that Dean finished the reading the article, as a large thump indicated.


End file.
